


what will happen to us now

by alakewood



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Established Relationship, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 13:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1606631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alakewood/pseuds/alakewood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen's doubts about his relationship with Jared create such a rift between them that it threatens to tear them apart and he doesn't know if it can be repaired.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what will happen to us now

Jensen yawns as he throws on his blinker to turn down yet another side street in his aimless driving, attempting to postpone the inevitable. He doesn't remember when or how it all started – working later and later, taking the long way home, sneaking into the house hours past what once was normal – but it's gotten bad enough that he dreads pulling into his own driveway each night. He's certain that one of these days, he's not going to want to go home and face Jared and his blank, resigned expression. And he doesn't know why.

It's not Jared, he knows that much. And it's not Jensen's - _their_ \- daughter, either, even if she does sometimes put them in awkward standoff situations where they can't agree and do nothing but argue with each other. But that's parenting.

No, it's something wrong with himself. The same something that makes him second-guess reaching out to his husband when Jared has his back to him in bed, makes him hold back easy hugs and loving kisses, makes him doubt everything he is, everything they are.

He can feel Jared pulling away and he doesn't know how to fix it. But he has to before--

Jensen shakes his head and drags a hand over his face. He can't think like that. Things are fine. They're okay. This is just a rough patch; a little bump in the road. It's nothing compared to the months when they first got together that would've made a much lesser man than Jared run for the metaphorical hills. If Jared didn't bail on him when he found out about Erin and Eleanor, he's not going to bail on him now.

Jensen stifles another yawn and glances at the clock on the dash. It's nearly one AM. That's really late, even by his recent standards, and he can't help the sick sinking feeling of dread in his stomach. He tries again to tell himself it's nothing, takes a deep breath, and makes up his mind to crawl into bed with Jared, curl around him like he used to. The best way to cross this distance between them is with small steps. Anything too big or too fast could seem too desperate and chase Jared away and Jensen _can't._

He turns the car around and heads home, and it's going on one-thirty when he finally parks next to Jared's beat-up truck in their garage. As he starts up the front walk, separating his house key from the other few on his key chain, he notices that there's a light on in the living room. Jensen's heart starts pounding so har he can hear his pulse thudding hollowly in his ears.

Jensen tries to even out his breathing as he slides the key into the lock and opens the door, but he can't. He feels lightheaded and dizzy as he closes and locks the door behind himself, drops his messenger bag beside the hall table, hangs up his jacket.

Jared's sitting on the couch, hunched over with his elbows on his knees, one hand buried in his disheveled hair, an amber bottle of Shiner dangling from the other. He glances up at Jensen after a minute, lifts the bottle to his mouth and finishes off the beer in a couple long swallows. The bottle is added to the rest of the empty six-pack on the coffee table, then Jared swiped the back of his wrist over his mouth before sitting up straighter and meeting Jensen's gaze. His face is pale in the lamp light, eyes red-rimmed and glassy.

Jensen's heart seizes at the emptiness in Jared's stare, body feeling numb as he stumbles forward. “Jay?”

Jared's thick swallow is audible in the quiet of their living room. He bites at his bottom lip as he stands, right hand going to his left, thumb and forefinger grasping at the white gold wedding band, twisting and pulling until it pops past his knuckle. “I can't,” he says on a sigh. “I can't do this anymore.”

“Jared,” Jensen says, unable to say anything else because his mind's blank save for the panicked, repeating thought of _this can't be happening, this can't be happening._

“I don't know what else to do. I've been- I've been _trying_ , but. You're not happy. I can _see_ that you're not happy and- Ellie.” He shakes his head, looks down at the ring in his hands and reaches for Jensen's, pressing the body-warm metal into his palm. “I'm sorry.” He bends down to pick up the bag on the floor next to the couch that Jensen didn't notice until this very moment and hefts the strap over his shoulder.

“Jay. Jay, _please._ ” Jensen feels hopeless and adrift and everything's falling apart. His whole life is coming undone.

“Ellie,” Jared starts, voice thick, eyes trained at some point over Jensen's shoulder, “Ellie's at Danneel's. She'll get her to school in the morning, but you'll have to pick her up. Try to get there early – ten or quarter after.” His tongue slides over his bottom lip before he sucks it into his mouth, teeth scraping the pinkness pale as he releases it. “I'll be back for the rest of my things when- when I figure out what I'm doing.” He takes an aborted step away, then leans in, large, warm palm cupping Jensen's jaw as he presses a chaste kiss high on Jensen's cheekbone near the corner of his eye in such a familiar gesture. “Goodbye, Jensen.”

He listens to the floorboards creak as Jared walks away, hears the click of the lock, the faint squeak of hinges as the door opens and the _snick_ as it closes. Jensen's paralyzed where he stands, wants nothing more than to run after Jared and beg him to stay, _please stay_ , but he doesn't have the words to convince him. “I'm sorry” and “I love you” won't be enough. “I'll fix it” and “I can change” are promises he doesn't know he can keep.

It's not until he hears the low rumble of Jared's truck starting that he realizes doing _something_ is better than standing here doing nothing. But he's too late – the truck's already halfway down the block by the time Jensen makes it outside. He stands there for what feels like hours, staring at the spot three blocks down where the taillights disappeared around the corner. The garbage truck pulling up to the curb next door pulls him out of his daze and he makes his way back into the house before he can draw attention to himself.

Inside, nothing looks different or out of place except for the six empty bottles on the coffee table that stand as still as Jensen had when Jared walked away from him.

It's finally starting to sink in – Jared left.

Jared's _gone._

Jensen has to fight the sudden urge to smash each of those mocking bottles to pieces. It won't change anything. Won't bring Jared back. Won't make Jensen feel any better.

A couple deep breaths calm his anger, makes it recede far enough the anguish has room to flood right back in. He picks up the bottles and carries them into the kitchen, carefully dropping them into the sink. For a moment he thinks about digging the bottle of whiskey out from the back of the top shelf in the cupboard next to the fridge, but it'll only make him feel worse.

He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge instead and slowly trudges upstairs.

Even their room looks the same. _His_ room, now, he supposes. He stares at their huge bed and wishes he'd brought the whiskey.

He twists the cap off the water bottle and drains half of it as he stands in the doorway. He turns the light back off before he steps inside and doesn't even bother getting undressed before climbing onto the mattress. After laying there, staring at the ceiling for countless minutes, he finally rolls over onto Jared's side and buries his face in Jared's pillow. But it doesn't smell like Jared. The faint, clean scent of laundry detergent clings to the soft cotton and that, after everything, is what finally breaks him. The sob that tears from Jensen's chest burns his lungs as sudden tears sting his eyes, and he doesn't think he's ever hurt like this. Not even when his dad died. But he'd had Jared to lean on then. Now, he has no one. Nobody except Ellie. And Jesus Christ, what's he supposed to tell her? How is he supposed to explain? How does he tell her that Jared's gone and he's not coming back and that it's all Jensen's fault? That's the last thought he remembers before the exhaustion pulls him down into sleep.

****

\- = - = -

The room is glaringly bright when Jensen wakes up the following morning. Jensen can't remember the last time he slept in past sunrise and throws an arm over his face, glancing at the alarm clock on his nightstand out of the corner of his eye and seeing that it's nearly eleven. Barely still morning.

His cell phone vibrates in his jeans pocket and he figures that's what woke him. As much as he doesn't want to leave this bed or deal with anybody – today or maybe ever – he has to at lease call into work and pick Ellie up from school.

Jensen fishes his phone out of his pocket and ignores the five text messages, going straight for the missed call log. There are two from work and one from Danneel and there's no way he can deal with her right now.

He calls work, squeezes his eyes closed as he listens to the line ring, the receptionists bright voice interrupting with, “Collins-Speight Design, this is Julie. How can I help you this morning?”

“Hey, Julie, it's-”

“Jesus _Christ_ , Jensen, where are you?” Julie blurts in a harsh whisper. “Richard nearly had to physically restrain Misha from driving over to your house this morning when you weren't here.”

“Yeah, I'm. I'm not feeling well. I think- I'm probably going to be out the rest of the week.” Jensen's never taken a sick day in his life.

“Oh,” Julie says after a beat. “Okay. I'll let the guys know. Feel better, Jen. And don't give Jared too much grief.”

Jensen whole chest throbs at the sound of Jared's name. “Thanks, Julie. See you Monday.” He hangs up and turns off his phone before rolling onto his side to stare at the numbers on the alarm clock. He watches noon come and go, holds out until one-thirty before his hunger pangs are more uncomfortable than annoying. He stops at the bathroom to relieve himself and take out his itchy contacts, but doesn't have the energy or desire to change, much less shower.

When he finally makes his way to the kitchen, Jensen rinses out the bottles in the sink while he toasts a couple frosted strawberry Pop-Tarts. They're not his favorite – he doesn't really care for the so-called pastries – but they're Jared's, and the smell and taste remind him of early mornings and quick breakfasts when things were still good. He settles on the couch where Jared had been sitting last night and mindless eats the Pop-Tarts while he stares at his reflection in the TV.

At three Jensen finally gets up, brushes the crumbs off his shirt and lap, and grabs his jacket so he can go pick up Ellie from school. He's early when he gets to the elementary, gets out of the car to stand at the fence with a few other parents, hands shoved into his pockets as he waits.

Ten minutes later, Ellie bounds across the blacktop, waving something in her hand. The grin on her face falters when she sees Jensen, her confusion putting a little crease between her eyebrows. “Where's Jared?” she asks.

“He, uh, he had something to do today, kiddo,” Jensen tells her, reaching for the paper she's holding before taking her hand. “What's this?”

The top line of the wide-ruled loose leaf says “Where the Wild Things Are” in Ellie's careful but imperfect cursive.

“It's the book report Jared helped me with. I got a hundred! I can't wait to show Jared!”

Jensen opens the car door for her and helps her get into her car seat. “I'm sure he'll be really proud,” he says, still uncertain how he's going to tell her Jared's gone.

“Daddy? Is Jared okay?”

Sighing, Jensen crouches on the curb next to the car. “Of course, baby. Why?”

“'Cause he _always_ picks me up from school and I stayed at Aunt Danny's last night. On a _school night._ ”

“He's okay. We'll talk about it later.” Jensen stands and closes her door before climbing back into the front seat.

They don't talk again until they get home and Ellie notices the obvious. She's got her book report clutched in her hand. “Where's Jared, Daddy?”

Jensen can't and doesn't want to lie to her. “Come here,” he says, reaching for her hand and leading her over to the couch, sitting down, and pulling her up onto his lap.

“Daddy?”

“Jared left, Ellie.”

“Well, when's he coming back?”

Jensen closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them again. “He's not.”

She stares at Jensen's face for a long time, blue eyes tearing up, mouth turning down at the corners. “Is it- is it 'cause he's mad at me?”

“No, baby. No, of course not,” Jensen tells her, hugging her close. “Why would he be mad at you?”

“'Cause I yelled at him yesterday. I didn't want to go to Aunt Danny's and he said I had to and I- I told him that... I told him he wasn't my daddy and he couldn't make me.”

“Ellie... Jared's not mad at you. He loves you.”

“Then- then why did he go away? Maybe if I tell him I'm sorry-”

Jensen's heart aches. “It was _my_ fault. _I_ made him sad. That's why he left.”

Ellie presses her face to his neck and holds tight to the front of his shirt. “If you 'pologize and make him happy again, he'll come back.”

“I don't know, baby,” Jensen says as he hugs her close.

“You gotta try.”

“We'll see.” He doesn't want to give her – or himself – any false hope. Sure, there's a chance that Jared will come back, but the look in his eyes when he left... It's not a very big chance.

****

\- = - = -

The next couple of days simultaneously drag on and pass in a blur. Jensen spends all his time while Ellie's at school doing absolutely nothing. He's behind on two accounts, he hasn't shaved since before Jared left, and he hasn't returned a single call or text, either. Which is probably what prompts Danneel's surprise visit Friday morning.

“Oh!” she exclaims as soon as he opens the door. “You _are_ alive. And here I'd thought-” She abruptly stops her rant when she gets a good look at him – the scruff of beard, his unkempt hair, the glasses and sweatpants he's wearing – and reaches for him as she steps inside. “Jesus, Jensen. What happened?”

Jensen shakes his head and closes the door, crossing his arms over the threadbare t-shirt that's one of the few things that survived the move from Texas to California five years ago. “Jared left.”

“ _Left_ left?”

“Yeah. Things haven't been- they haven't been good for a while and he just. He was done trying. I don't- _can't_ blame him. It's my fault.” It barely hurts to say it, he's so numb.

“Jensen,” Danneel says, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tight. “You're not giving up, though, are you? Tell me you're a mess because you've holed yourself up so you can figure out how to win him back.”

“There's nothing I can do, Danny,” he tells her, gently disentangling himself from her hold. “He's not happy and we've just... grown so far apart.”

“It's nothing you can't fix. After everything you guys have been through, Jen, you can't just let him _walk away._ ”

“Then what am I supposed to do, huh? Lock him out when he comes to get his stuff and force him to talk to me?”

Danneel nods vigorously. “Yeah! That's exactly what you'll do. Talk to him. Grovel and beg and make him remember why he loves you, why he followed you halfway across the country. Whatever happened, whatever's going on, you're gonna work through it. You're gonna _get_ through it.”

“I'm glad you have so much faith in us, but you didn't see him. I don't think-”

“You won't know if you don't try.”

Jensen shakes his head and sighs, dragging his palms over his face. “Yeah, I guess. Can't hurt any worse than I already do, can I?”

“That's the spirit.” Danneel offers him a soft smile. “You're gonna be okay.”

“I hope so.”

“How's Ellie?”

“Almost as bad as me. She doesn't quite understand, but-”

The front door opens and Jared's standing there with an armful of flat cardboard boxes.

“I guess that's my cue,” Danneel says before an awkward silence has time to begin. She presses a kiss to Jensen's cheek and gives him a pointed look. “I'll see you later.” As she passes Jared, she sets a hand on his arm, gives him a gentle squeeze. “You, too.”

“I'm just gonna,” Jared says, gesturing towards the stairs with a tip of his head.

“Do you remember when we moved here?” Jensen blurts. “You remember _why_ we moved here?”

“Yeah,” Jared says. “I do.”

“Because I love you and I wanted us to be together without having to hide.” Erin had just died and Jensen was trying to juggle the single dad thing with school and work and he was just struggling. Then he'd met Jared and it was the best – still _is_ the best, second to his daughter – thing that's ever happened to him. He wasn't even looking and Jared came out of nowhere, first as the best friend he could've asked for, then later, as so much more. When they'd finally gotten serious, talked about getting a place together, Jensen had just gotten his degree and was getting responses to the various job applications he'd filled out. A small architecture and design firm in San Francisco offered him a better deal than nearly every other place he'd applied to. And California had just legalized gay marriage. Jensen had put the listing for this very house on the top of the pile of prospects he'd printed out and showed it to Jared. The look on his face when he saw where the house was located was one of confusion that quickly became surprise when Jensen dropped to a knee right there, ring in hand, three-year-old Ellie banging her sippy-cup on the tray of her highchair in the background.

“That was five years ago. Obviously, something's changed since then.”

“No,” Jensen says, crossing the distance between them. “I love you as much now as I did when you said you'd marry me, when we decided to make this house our home.”

“If that's true,” Jared starts before biting at his bottom lip, “if nothing's changed, then why have you been pulling away from me? You find every excuse to stay late at work or hide away in your office. You're never home anymore and when you are... you might as well not be. We haven't been intimate in _months_ , Jen. You won't touch me and whenever I tried to start something, you'd just push me away.”

“I didn't mean to,” Jensen swears, reaching for the boxes and taking them from Jared, setting them against the wall. “I didn't.”

“Then why? What's your excuse?” Jared crosses his arms over his chest and stares at Jensen expectantly.

“I feel...” Jensen begins before taking a deep breath. He's never voiced this particular fear because he doesn't want to know if he's right. But he has to try. Or, like Danneel said, he'll never know. And he can't just let Jared walk away again. “I feel like I'm holding you back,” he finally admits.

“What? Jensen.”

“You dropped everything to come out here. You left your job, your family. And I know you haven't gotten much freelance since you got laid off from the paper. You'd be writing for The Chronicle by now if I hadn't-”

“Jesus Christ, Jensen. I'm here because I want to be. And I'm not taking as many freelance jobs because I've been busy with a project of my own.”

“You never-” is as far as he gets before Jared cuts him off again.

“Because I'm not sure what's going to come of it.”

Jensen reaches for Jared then, remembering something Jared mentioned years ago, a dream he'd had when they first met. “Your book? Did you finally...?”

“Yeah. I did.”

Jensen throws his arms around Jared. “I'm so proud of you,” he says against Jared's neck. He closes his eyes as Jared hugs him back and aches with how much he's missed this, the feel of Jared holding him. “God, Jay. I'm so sorry. I've been so stupid.”

“I'm not gonna argue with you there,” Jared says as he starts to pull away. “But, Jen, just because you say you're sorry-”

“I don't expect you to just forgive me. I know I've got a lot to make up for. But I'm not giving up on us.” He doesn't let go. “Come home, Jared. Please.”

“Jensen-”

“I'll do better. I can be better.” He meets Jared gaze and tries to convey everything he feels with just a look. “Stay.”

“Things have to change,” Jared says after a moment. “They have to.”

“They will,” Jensen promises. “ _I_ will.” He buries his hands in Jared's hair and pulls him down into a kiss that's desperate and fierce and makes his heart pound in a way it hasn't in a long time.

When Jared breaks their kiss, it's with obvious hesitation, his hands fisted in the thin fabric of the back of Jensen's tee. His nose grazes Jensen's temple, skims along his hairline as he breathes heavily. “Okay,” he says. “Okay.”

****

\- = - = -

They're early to pick Ellie up from school, stand hand-in-hand outside the fence as they wait for her. Ellie's eyes go wide the second she spots them and she breaks into a run, squeezing past her classmates and throwing herself into Jared's arms when he crouches down to catch her. “You're back!”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I am,” Jared says, meeting Jensen's gaze over Ellie's shoulder. He reaches for Jensen's hand and twines their fingers together.

Jensen will do whatever it takes to not lose this again. He squeezes Jared's hand and smiles at the sight of his husband and their daughter. His family is the most important thing in his life and he's never going to forget it or doubt it or take it for granted. “I love you.”

“I know,” Jared says, offering him a small, warm smile. “I love you, too.”


End file.
